Over the past decades, political poster culture in Hungary has undergone a radical transformation, reflecting a broader erosion of democratic norms and a decline in civil discourse. Formerly a medium of political creativity and pluralistic expression, public spaces in Hungary have increasingly become a battleground for government propaganda, dominated by crude, repetitive imagery and simplistic, emotive slogans.
Hungarian political poster culture developed as an artistic and social medium during the 20th century, but by the 2010s it had lost its autonomy and aesthetic and conceptual depth. Visual political communication has become a simplistic, coddling tool that dominates rather than inspires. Public spaces have become one-sided message-carrying surfaces, transforming from a space of civic discourse to a zone of “visual siege.”
Since 2010, the government of Prime Minister Viktor Orbán has relentlessly flooded the streets of Hungary with posters targeting migrants, George Soros, Brussels bureaucrats and domestic opposition figures. These campaigns do more than simply promote political agendas – they create enemies, incite fear and put the public sector under constant siege. Their visual style is unmistakable: bold capital letters, stark color contrasts, aggressive close-ups of demonized faces. Formally and emotionally, they are more like war propaganda than democratic persuasion.
This article explores how political posters in Hungary have become a tool for state-driven emotional manipulation, contributing to a toxic civic climate. It examines the aesthetic and rhetorical techniques used in Fidesz campaigns, traces their evolution, and explores their psychological and social effects. It also examines whether a meaningful counterculture or artistic resistance still exists – or whether the streets of Hungary have completely given themselves over to the politics of hate.
Common Space: Birth of Political Poster
The history of the political poster in Hungary is closely connected to the emergence of modern publicity, street visual communication and social mobilization. Commercial and political wall posters, which appeared in the second half of the 19th century, was a new medium for reaching the masses: they conveyed ideas, products and emotions in a fast, direct and visually effective way.
At the beginning of the 20th century, artists such as Mihály Bíró and Sándor Bortnyik interpreted the poster as not only an applied graphic art but also a force for shaping society. Bíró’s legendary Hammer Worker was not only the ideal of the working class, but also the visual promise of a new social order. The recruitment posters of the Soviet Republic, such as Sándor Kónya’s “You! Hiding in the Darkness…” – addressed the viewer directly for the first time, encouraging clear political engagement.
At that time, the poster still encouraged collective visual thinking: it was characterised by allegorical forms, symbols, metaphors and strong typography, and the means of persuasion were not simplistic, but focused on layering and complexity.
Power of Symbols: Posters as Ritual
Election posters can also be seen as part of a secular ritual, as they not only inform but also order the mental map of society. Posters transmit key symbols of identity formation, solidarity and historical continuity.
Take, for example, the posters of the 1990 elections, almost all of which are highly symbolic: national flags, historical references, images of Petőfi, the Holy Crown, or the road to the West are not simply decorative elements – they are sacred symbols of democratic transition. The rite – the election – is made into an emotionally grounded collective act by means of these symbols. The SZDSZ’s bird of freedom, the MDF’s vision of the future embraced as mother earth, or the KDNP’s cross all offer points of interpretation for the crossing between past and future.
At the same time, the motive of ‘symbolic purification’ also appears. The MDF’s “Spring Cleaning” poster, for example, throws the visual memories of communism straight into the trash. The holy thus becomes profane – the visual toolkit of the former dominant ideology is now an object of ridicule. The visual politics of disarmament is then ironic and playful, but in future government visuals it will take on a more direct and threatening form.
Political Billboards in Post-Regime Hungary
The use of political billboards in Hungary really came into its own around the time of the regime change. Although political posters were still present in the communist period – mainly with propaganda purposes and ideological content – the free elections of 1990 saw the emergence of the campaign poster in the modern sense, which was already defined by the competition between parties and the intention to influence voters’ decisions.
In the early 1990s, billboards were used primarily to attract attention, build image and visually transmit political messages. The aim was to shape political preferences with memorable slogans and portraits that would capture the attention of people on the street. At that time, parties were still experimenting – some with humour, some with positive messages. The “Let Them Choose!” campaign, the minimalist, blue-and-white aesthetics of the SZDSZ, or the youthful, rebellious visuals of Fidesz (e.g. The Future Has Begun) all contributed to a poster culture that was still pluralistic at the time.
From the 2000s onwards, political competition became increasingly polarised, and at the same time billboards shifted towards identity politics and emotional mobilization. Fidesz and MSZP were already running strong negative campaigns at that time, but they were still part of the political debate and did not cross the line into hate speech.
The End of Creativity: Aesthetic Decline
For a few years after the regime change, political posters still retained their inventiveness, wit and desire for social dialogue. István Orosz’s ‘Tovariscsi, konyec’ poster or Fidesz’s youthful, kissing campaign posters still moved a complex system of cultural references and required associative thinking from the recipient.
But this momentum quickly faded. The spread of computer graphics programs, the commercialisation of advertising space and the schematisation of political messages have combined to create a visual world where posters no longer convey an idea but simply a “visual shout”.
In the 2006 campaign, there were still glimpses of uniqueness (“Who Cares About Pisti Kovács?“, “We Did It!“), but these were also more caricature-like, easily reversible. By the 2010s, however, the image, the irony, the artistic thinking had disappeared: what remained were clichéd portraits, empty slogans and WordArt-like typography. The only difference between the posters of Fidesz, MSZP, LMP or MDF was often the party logo.
At the same time, the possibility of “visual resistance” was eliminated. In earlier eras, the space for artistic freedom or irony remained, if not openly so (think of the satirical cartoons or cultural posters of the Kádár era).
Today, however, public spaces are almost exclusively arenas for government communication. The propaganda posters used by Fidesz – George Soros, Brussels, migrants – rebuild the dichotomy of “holy versus profane”, not with the intention of creating identity, but to exclude and stigmatise the other. The poster no longer builds a community, but an image of the enemy.
Occupying Public Spaces: Propaganda and Control
The visual strategy Fidesz has built up since 2010 is not just political communication, but the appropriation of public space. The propaganda is not only in the media, but also takes physical form: in the metro subways, through billboards, wall stickers, advertising columns. They do not encourage debate, they do not ask questions, they do not offer points of identification – they declare, name, shame.
In the Fidesz era, visual culture has become militarized. Forms are hard, facial expressions are menacing, colors are contrasting, typography is shouting. The repetitive mash-up – the same Soros head, the same migrant wave – is not intended to shape opinion, but to condition the emotions. The political visuality that is constantly present between election campaigns perpetuates a sense of crisis, keeping public spaces under siege.
In contrast, oppositional visuality is often powerless, out of context, or non-existent. Artistic resistance appears in marginal, spontaneous actions (e.g. poster vandalism, meme-making), but these do not constitute a real alternative to the official narrative.
Poster as Emotional Weapon – Visuality and Mechanisms of Action
The specificity of the billboard is that it has to be quick, simple and memorable at the same time. The visual toolbox is therefore based on simplification: short slogans, bold imagery, and contrasting colors. This format also simplifies political communication: it does not present complex political agendas but sends clear messages about who is ‘the good guy’ and who is ‘the enemy’.
By the 2010s, this simplification had turned into a deliberate dilution and then a conscious manipulation. The aim of poster campaigns was no longer to inform or build image, but to mobilize emotions – mainly based on fear and anger. For example, fear of foreigners was exploited during the migrant campaign, conspiracy theories in the Soros posters and fear of national sovereignty in the Brussels counter-campaigns.
The mechanism of action of the posters is thus multifaceted:
- Cognitive simplification: the message is quickly absorbed, no nuanced thinking is required.
- Emotional triggering: it arouses anger, fear or even pride.
- Visuality and repetition: the same faces, colors, fonts appear over and over again – so it becomes subconsciously embedded.
Government posters can no longer be treated as classic political advertising – they are propaganda panels, not to help people vote for a party, but to shape the world view: who are the “real Hungarians”, who are the enemies, what to fear and who to follow.
Visuality of Hate – Fidesz Campaigns From 2015 to The Present
The “If You Come to Hungary…” Campaign (2015)
The government’s first truly shocking national poster campaign was launched during the 2015 migrant crisis. The infamous ‘If you come to Hungary, you can’t take the jobs of Hungarians’ poster was provocative not only in content but also in form: white text on a dark blue background, a categorical statement in large letters – no nuance, no context.
Although the posters were (ironically) displayed in Hungarian, so that they could not address the refugees, they were in fact building on the fears of the domestic audience. This was the moment when the government made it clear that the billboard was not a tool for information, but a psychological weapon.
The George Soros Campaign (2017)
The anti-Soros campaign is one of the darkest chapters in Fidesz’s poster communications. The best known example bore the text ‘Don’t let Soros laugh at the end!’ under a photo of Soros with a grinning face. The aesthetics of the poster recalled classic anti-Semitic visuality: a face that suggests not human but demonic qualities.
In this campaign, the image of the enemy became personal – no longer a ‘category’ (like migrants), but a concrete, identifiable figure on whom all evil can be projected. The aim of the Soros campaign was not just to create fear, but to create a modern scapegoat whose demonization could mask domestic political problems.
Anti-Brussels Campaigns
From 2019, the government’s visual communication took a new direction: it published ‘Brussels wants to tell us who we should live with’, ‘Stop Brussels!’ and other posters portraying the EU as the enemy. In these cases, there was less of a specific face, and instead symbols (EU stars, maps, flags) appeared and were used as a backdrop for aggressive messages.
The aim here was based on the fear of national sovereignty and rebellion against external control. The style of the posters was consistently militarised: sharp colors, strong prohibitive verbs, a declarative or imperative mode (‘We will defend’, ‘Let us stop’).
Anti-Opposition Campaigns and Demonization of Gergely Karácsony
In the period leading up to the 2022 parliamentary elections, government posters were already fully targeting the domestic opposition. The faces of Gergely Karácsony and Péter Márki-Zay regularly appeared in a distorted form, with foreign ‘clients’ such as Soros or Gyurcsány montaged in the background.
The messages are not informative, but threatening. These posters are clearly manipulating voters’ emotions – they do not even try to imitate a political debate.
After the 2022 parliamentary elections, Fidesz’s poster campaigns not only continued, but took the visual rhetoric of hate, distrust and national isolationism to a new level. After the elections, there was no political calm or social consolidation, instead, new and new images of enemies appeared in public spaces. The government’s messages became more and more openly hostile to the European Union, and increasingly blunt in their attacks on Ukraine, the Ukrainian leadership and even the moral norms of solidarity in the face of war. In several waves, posters appeared suggesting that ‘Brussels wants war’, while Hungary is ‘for peace’. The visual compositions were based on familiar panels: contrasting colors, alarmed looks, suggestive appeals. The European Union was no longer portrayed as a source of misguided decisions, but as a traitor to Hungarian interests – as if the community that Hungary had joined of its own free will was now controlling it from outside and threatening its sovereignty.
By the end of 2023, the very issue of European aid to Ukraine was in the government’s posters’ crosshairs. Campaigns suggested that Hungary was being dragged into the conflict by belligerent forces that had no regard for the interests of the Hungarian people. Opposition to Russian aggression, sanctions, aid to Ukraine – all these were presented on the posters as betrayals, threats and even moral turpitude. Some campaigns deliberately conflated pro-war and opposition actors, creating the false impression that the EU, the Ukrainian leadership and domestic critics of the government were part of the same hostile bloc.
This trend represented not only a political but also a moral low point in poster culture. The war, which is claiming hundreds of thousands of lives and displacing millions of people from their homes, has become a pretext for government communication to create fear and consolidate its own position of power. The posters did not speak in a spirit of compassion, solidarity or diplomatic responsibility, but in a self-interested, aggressive and self-righteous tone. Both the European Union, the main supporter of the Hungarian economy, and Ukraine, a neighboring war-torn country, were demonized in this dark visual narrative.
The poster campaigns after 2022 are therefore now destroying trust, solidarity and respect for reality, not only at home but also internationally. These campaigns have clearly stepped outside the traditional framework of political advertising: they are driven by division, enmity-seeking and self-exoneration rather than moral principles. The Hungarian public space has thus become not only the backdrop for a domestic power game, but also the promoter of a geopolitical narrative that runs counter to common European values – and ultimately to common humanity.
Spread of Hatred: Social and Environmental Consequences
Fidesz’s poster campaigns not only have an impact at the level of political communication, but also have profound socio-psychological and environmental consequences. The posters, which flood urban public spaces with one-sided messages, cause visual pollution: they not only destroy the cityscape aesthetically, but also squeeze all other opinions out of the public space. Alternative points of view and pluralism, which is one of the cornerstones of a democratic society, are thus gradually disappearing from the public discourse.
These campaigns also contribute to the normalisation of hate speech. The fear-mongering, exclusionary and inflammatory language on posters becomes part of everyday speech, in school corridors, at family dinners and in everyday social interactions. Members of society thus slowly become immune to aggressive communication and even come to regard it as acceptable, even natural.
This ultimately leads to a gradual erosion of democracy. Political debate and substantive dialogue are increasingly being replaced by emotional manipulation, which seeks to appeal not to arguments but to instincts and fears. Reasoning is replaced by reflexes, and the search for consensus is replaced by the rejection of enemies. In such an environment, democratic culture is not only damaged, but in the long term it may even collapse.
Loss of Public Space – Appropriation of Physical Space
It is not only the content of posters that conveys a political message, but also their quantity and location. A disproportionate amount of urban public spaces have become the vehicle for government messages, especially during campaign periods, but often beyond. At the busiest intersections – highway exits, train stations, underpasses – there is often no alternative viewpoint, only the visual mantra of the official narrative.
This “visual occupation” of public spaces also affects the scope for urban citizens: there is no way to avoid government messages, even if one consciously shies away from politics. In this way, the poster becomes no longer a matter of choice, but a forced background noise – one that constantly insulates the interpretative frames that power deems important.
Regulatory Environment and Nationalisation of Poster Sites
The distortion of poster culture has been driven not only by content but also by legal and market regulation. In the second half of the 2010s, a number of legislative amendments were adopted that restricted the possibilities for poster placement, especially for opposition parties and NGOs. The most notable of these was the 2017 Poster Law, which strictly regulated political advertising outside campaign periods and required the disclosure of prices and contracts.
In parallel, government-linked actors such as Mahír Cityposter or Fidesz-affiliated companies buying up public advertising space have gradually monopolized the market for physical advertising space. The practical result was that alternative political messages became almost invisible in public spaces.
The “Off-Campaign” – Permanent Propaganda
In earlier periods, political posters were mainly linked to campaign periods – appearing in mass in the months before elections and then disappearing. In the last decade, this cyclicality has disappeared: the communication strategy used by Fidesz keeps society in a constant state of mobilization.
As part of the permanent campaign, new enemy images appear from time to time: migrants, George Soros, Brussels, the LGBTQ community, the ‘pro-war’ opposition – there is always a new threat to which the poster provides a visual response. This rhetoric gives the impression that the country is under constant siege, which only the ‘leader’ can defend.
However, the visual predominance of public spaces affects not only adults, but also children. From a young age, children are confronted with the black and white mindset on billboards: who is to be loved and who is to be feared. In the long term, this can determine their attitudes to politics and otherness, especially if school education does not provide a balance.
Poster as Propaganda – Historical Parallels
The aesthetics and function of today’s Hungarian political posters evoke historical parallels: the national propaganda of the interwar period, Soviet agitprop, or the visual rhetoric of Nazi Germany used simple, powerful images, clear messages and the representation of public enemies in a similar way.
This parallel does not mean that the current regime is a dictatorship – but it does mean that it uses the same emotional and visual techniques that worked in the darkest periods of history: fear, hate, manipulation. The difference today is that it is all happening within a “democratic” framework – legitimised by elections, media law, public procurement.
Visual Congestion and Aesthetic Regression
The noise of billboards in today’s public spaces goes beyond political communication. The violently repetitive visual patterns in every corner of the urban environment not only influence public thinking, but also affect individual psychological states. Psychological research has shown that excessive visual stimulation can lead to stress, distraction and mental fatigue, especially when the stimuli carry one-sided, negative messages. The typography, use of color and graphic design of government poster campaigns do not change from campaign to campaign, so the viewer becomes accustomed to the patterns, even if unnoticed, and thus becomes conditioned. Contrasting colors (typically blue-white, orange-black), prohibitive verbs, demonized portraits all contribute to a fear-based orientation, a simplified, binary interpretation of the world.
It is also significant that the aesthetic quality of political posters has deteriorated dramatically compared to previous eras. In the 20th century, posters were made by artists who responded to social processes in their own visual language, often autonomously. Today, by contrast, spaces are dominated by a mass-produced, template-driven visual world, often reminiscent of the graphic tools of an early word processor. Political clients and advertising companies operating according to the logic of public procurement reward not creativity but the effectiveness of targeted manipulation. This is how posters become a tool for visual clichés and content bleakness.
The visual regression that results is not only a loss of cultural value, but also the degradation of political language. The quality of the visual environment is closely linked to the type of public discourse that is created and the mindset that it supports. The poster is therefore not only a tool, but a direct factor in the democratic culture, or lack thereof.
Final Thoughts – When Poster No Longer Speaks, but Shouts
The Hungarian political poster culture has changed radically in the last decades. Once part of the political contest, a form of dialogue, it has become a tool of visual dominance, aimed not at convincing but at subjugating. The public spaces dominated by Fidesz have become not only physically occupied, but also psychologically: citizens’ moods and perceptions of the world are shaped by the messages of hostility and fear that assail them. But the poster will never belong to everyone – even if the government owns the surfaces, reactions, ridicule and counter-text will always appear. If nothing else, they prove that visual space is not completely dead: there is still resistance, humour and – perhaps – a future.
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